


Future Perfect Tense

by Butterfly



Series: Queering the Text [2]
Category: due South
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-04-11
Updated: 2004-04-11
Packaged: 2017-10-26 18:47:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/286677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Butterfly/pseuds/Butterfly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ray's starting to understand what makes Fraser tick.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Future Perfect Tense

**Author's Note:**

> Post- _Eclipse_.

Ray tossed the dreamcatcher on top of the tv and then stretched, working out the kinks from a day of grave-watching and a night of party-watching. Both of which had been a lot easier with Fraser's company. God, that man was a freak -- dedicated and brave, sure, but completely nuts. What kind of man smiles in the face of a gun? Benton Fraser, apparently. Same law-abiding man who'd coaxed his way into this very apartment and who looked at Ray's files without permission or authorization. Benton Fraser was a puzzle. Right now, there were too many pieces missing to really see what the picture was, though.

Ray absentmindedly fed Steve, unable to stop thinking about the total freakishness of this Canadian that was suddenly in his life.

Because, really, what kind of man gives a present to someone he doesn't know? Sure, someone might have noticed if Vecchio hadn't a party, but nobody but nobody would have known if Ray Kowalski hadn't gotten a present from the Mountie. Vecchio's present, even, since he'd ordered that eagle feather a hell of a lot more than a week ago.

Ray reached out and traced a finger along the side of the dreamcatcher, really letting himself look at it. It was real quality work, with a lot of time and affection wrapped up in it. It might have been made for Vecchio, but Fraser had given it to him, and it had already caught his worst nightmare. Maybe getting the real deal eagle feathers had made the difference.

Maybe it was the partner. Yeah, he and Fraser weren't really, not yet, but they could get there. He felt a spark and crackle with Fraser that he'd never had with a partner... well, not a _police_ partner, that was for damn sure.

Friends and partners. It sounded like a nice idea. He had never really had that -- friends were the people he didn't have to trust his life with and partners were the guys that he didn't spend off-time with. And Fraser knew, knew about Ray's lowest moment, and he'd still said those things. And maybe...

Ray picked the dreamcatcher back up and took it with him into his bedroom. He tossed it onto the bed and then pulled off his holster, putting it away carefully. Then he went to his bedside table and opened it, looking for... yeah, there it was, a random piece of string that had been in the drawer since before he'd moved it from his old place. It was dirty and starting to fray at one end, so he pulled out a lighter from the drawer and melted the end.

He could wash the string before using it, but that was way too Fraser. Or Stella, his stupid heart reminded him. Yeah, they had the neat-freak thing in common, too. Well, Ray Kowalski was not going to bow down before the forces of order. He was a fucking rebel.

Okay, right, a rebel who was a cop, but as any of his high school teachers would say, he'd never been too big on logic. Serve and protect, that's what it was about. That's what he knew how to do. And Fraser got that, Fraser lived that in a way that was... intimidating.

Fraser looked like he lived the law, but that didn't feel right. Didn't scan with the B&E work. Not law, then, but... justice? Yeah, that sounded right. Laws were just words, justice was gut and head and truth.

Ray slipped the string through the dreamcatcher and tied the whole thing to hang off of the nail the mini-Harley was using. And now it was roughly over the head of his bed, which was how these things worked.

Maybe it'd catch some more bad dreams. Maybe when he woke up tomorrow, he wouldn't reach out for the one person that he'd never sleep next to again.

Ray snorted. There wasn't a charm in the world that could make his bed less empty in the mornings. Wishing for something he couldn't get… he'd tried that before and it never worked.

Stella's eyes weren't ever going to stop being the prettiest blue he'd ever seen.

Ray shut his eyes, that vivid color instantly springing to life behind his eyelids.

Only, wait, fuck, that wasn't the right color.

Ray opened his eyes and stretched out his hand to brush the dreamcatcher. Those hadn't been Stella's eyes, but he'd definitely known them. He'd spent a lot of today looking into them. So, the question was, why hadn't he realized earlier how nice he thought Fraser's eyes were?

Fuck. He really didn't need this.

  
_the end_   



End file.
